Through the Ages
by CallieBlint
Summary: We are culminations of our experiences. A carefree child, a man born for greatest and an honourable rascal cross paths and begin their descent into the men they will become.
1. chapter 1

Through the Ages

Chapter 1

It was always cold in the citadel, no matter the weather.

The fact that great double doors opened to both the right and the front of the great hall, at the foot of the looming tower, did little to shield the interior from the gusts of wind of the Hanamura peaks.

Furthermore, the elder man sitting atop the raised platform of the audience hall looked upon his his children with the cold grace of a Daimyo. Even though he wore a well cut suit instead of the traditional garb of a Japanese noble man.

[Japanese] "My sons… "

Sojiro spoke.

Despite the power and authority his tone carried, it too was laced with affection as it settled upon the youths at the front of the kneeling masses.

They both looked up in unison.

Though both black haired and wide eyed with the potential of youth… They could not be more different.

Already at age 16 his eldest son, Hanzo was a prodigy of various Japanese martial arts and was shaping into a fine young man, who would inherit the centuries old family legacy.

The honoured heir.

While Genji might have only been 13, his opened mind and free spirit made him loved by most that served within Hamamura's walls, despite his prankster nature.

The beloved son.

It was, of course, Hanzo who spoke first - with a bowed head and formal speech, he gave his father the respect he deserved.

[Japanese] "What would you have us do, Father?"

It must be something of importance, the fact that their father met and spoke with them in such a way, meant that it was official clan business.

And Hanzo was eager to please.

[Japanese] "We will be receiving some guests in a number of hours. Ones, that I hope, shall assist us with making inroads into America."

This surprised both brothers, whom turned to look at one another. Hanzo flashed concern countered by Genji's delightful excitement.

[Japanese] "It will be your task to welcome and entertain most of them, while I speak with their leader."

Despite his thoughts on the matter, Hanzo was about to accept… Only to be cut off by Genji, who raised his hand and beamed an infectious smile.

[Japanese] "Do not worry, Father! We will!"

The older brother furrowed his brow at the outburst but Sojiro smiled toward the youngest son.

[Japanese] "How is your English?"

He rested his gaze upon the both of them.

"Veree good, Outosan!"

Of course Genji could speak good English, considering how many American video games he played in his free time.

Hanzo, on the other hand, had been purely tutored English instead… and found it difficult to naturally converse with his rigid, textbook approach. However, reading; in his opinion, was the proper way to learn a language and he refused to change, now, after so many years.

"Aq-ceptible fatha."

Sojiro nodded and straightened. At that moment, he was no longer their father. But head of the Clan.

[Japanese] "Do not disappoint me."

"Ha!"

The brothers bellowed as they bowed their heads down low, having received their orders.


	2. chapter 2

Through the Ages

Chapter 2

[Japanese] "You're insufferable."

Since meeting with their father a few hours ago the brothers had liaised with the staff and guards and gotten things prepared for the arrival of their guests.

Hanzo had washed and changed, and though it was late spring and trees were past their prime blooming period, he opted to wear a Kimono as a sign of respect for the guests.

"Heh heh! "

Placing his hands on his hips Genji flashed his older brother a wide grin, despite the other man's reproval.

Sporting a white training tunic and an orange scarf, he looked like some shonen anime reject… and frankly Genji was both proud and happy of it.

Hanzo, was not.

[Japanese] "That is no way to dress when meeting potential business associates!"

He continued, practically berating his brother.

[Japanese] "Not showing them respect from initial contact can doom talks even before they begin."

Genji rolled his eyes and squatted down, wide, folding his hands behind his head. He bounced his body weight from one leg to the other, shifting his body each time in what would; normally, be a warmup.

[Japanese] "You really think the Americans care? You could wear your bed garments to the meeting and they would not know!"

That flustered the older brother, who did not appreciate the thought of wearing intimates around guests.

He dropped a light first on top of Genji's head and began to twist it against the top of his head.

"Ai! Ai! Aniki!"

Retaliating back with flailing arms Genji forced Hanzo to withdraw, least he wanted to risk getting dirt all over his formal wear.

The end of their brotherly squabble was timed perfectly, as a Hovercopter the Clan had sent to retrieve their potential allies came over the high walls of their headquarters, beginning its descent onto the courtyard, where it landed.

Genji looked to Hanzo. And vice versa.

They stepped forward, flanked by four black suit wearing guards; two at either side, whom mimicked the stylings of the, now non-existent, Yakuza.

And as the door opened Hanzo bowed deeply in preparation to welcome them to the home of the Shimada.

"WHOOO-EE! "

He snapped his head up.

What piled out of the hovercopter was a bundle of boys, most of them roughly Hanzo and Genji's age, clad in denim jeans, black leather jackets and each bearing the same motorcycle patch; a winged skull with a lock beneath the jaw.

Ruffians!

Hanzo could not believe that his father was considering doing business with these… these… crude hooligans.

They did not even seem to pay attention to their own welcoming party, nattering amongst themselves as they stretched out travel stiff joints.

"Hewwo!"

Genji shouted loud enough to get their attention, giving them an overly enthusiastic wave. The rabble of teens turned to look at him.

For a moment. Deadly silence.

Dispelled by a clamouring cheer.

" 'ey! Lookit the kid."

"Aw man! He looks like one of those ninja from that cartoon."

"Ah fink y'all find dat it's an Anime. Not a cartoon."

"... Is it animated?"

"Well, ya, bu-"

Hanzo face palmed as the group erupted into a debate over the differences between animation styles.

In turn the younger of the siblings mirrored their excitment - and without much thought started to move toward the group, to get involved. The shift caught Hanzo's attention and he tried to make a protective grab for Genji's arm.

[Japanese] "Brother! No!"

But the nimble Ninja is training slipped away from his grasp toward the group, that only started to get louder and more fired up with induction into the crowd… Thankfully, it was all open arms and laughter.

Until the final member of the congregation exited the vehicle.

What followed was the greatest display of elbow dominos one could ever see; jabs quickly hushing the group amidst whispers of;

"Quiet fer da boss."

An utter bear of a man stepped out of the hovercopter. Clearly the oldest out of the men, most of whom were youths in their 20s - he had a long white beard that reached to his midriff, bare arms that were completely covered in fading tattoos and black, fingerless, biker gloves, that slapped together as he punched one hand into the palm of the other.

He looked between both Genji and Hanzo with disdain.

"Where yer father at?"

Genji went to open his big mouth but Hanzo shot him such a narrowed glare, that it made him reconsider.

Thankfully for them both, two of the four guards that were with them stepped forward, motioning toward the citadel, with one speaking in broken English that was even worse than Hanzo's.

"Disur wai."

Unconcerned with being flanked by the vassals of an assassin clan's lead, the thick brute of a man left with them, diving into the citadel to have his meeting with Sojiro, leaving the gangle of males youths behind in the courtyard.

As soon as he was out of sight the area erupted into noise again.

Genji was a natural. Surrounded by the other men and boys, they barraged him with questions, ruffled his hair and even let him try on their jackets. He lavished the attention, happier than almost never before.

On the contrary, Hanzo had stepped away, not wanting to have anything to do with the mob, despite the wishes his father had expressed earlier in the day.

He leaned against a cherry blossom that had bloomed and was now, slowly bearing seed, casting the odd twirling petal to the ground.

" 'ey, pretteh lady."

Came a voice from at his side, drawing Hanzo's focus to it.

One of the gear heads had broken away from the ground and moved close to the older brother, holding a cowboy hat in front of his pelvis as he gave the supposed woman a bright smile.

In fairness, it was not the American man's fault.

With his black, shoulder length hair, wearing a kimono and with delicate features passed down from his mother, Hanzo looked very feminine.

As if today was not embarrassment enough, for the Asian - only by the graces of the seven fortunes was Genji too far away and focused on being spoiled by the guests, to not hear the exchange.

If he had, Hanzo would likely never live it down.

"I am boy."

He tried to explain, placing a hand upon his chest to motion to himself.

The biker flipped his hat back atop messy brown hair before tipping it up with a thumb to stare uncomfortably long at Hanzo, as if trying to process what he had just said.

This was now an utter waste of Hanzo's time - He could have been proactive with training, management lessons or looking into the economy fluctuations as a result of Russians recent quelling of an Omnic invasion.

And instead he was babysitting a small horde of Gaijin. One of which was STILL staring at him.

Hanzo flicked his head to the side, flaring his hair a little in the process as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Stop look!"

He barked toward the other man, who seemed to be about the same age as him. In defense the American raised his hands up and stepped back.

"Okay okay."

What followed was another awkward silence, penetrated only but laughter and cheers as Genji started showing off to the others, performing handstands for the Deadlock gang, like some circus entertainer.

"...yer sure yer not a girl?"

Hanzo could feel his brow crease with enough force that one of his eyes twitched and he pinched the bridge if his nose.

"Yes."

"Den why yer wearing a dress?"

"It es Kimono."

"Like what dem Geisha wear?"

And now he was being compared to socialites and whores.

That was Hanzo's limit.

He turned sharply on the ball of his foot and began to leave, seeking some solace and peace in one of the small atriums flanking the citadel major.

The tap, tap, tap of biker boots, however, suggested his unwelcome guest was following him. Which in turn made Hanzo speed up, disappearing round a corner into a relatively enclosed pavilion.

The biker followed only to be met with a cold dagger near his throat as he turned the side.

Even in Hanamura those of the Clan were armed. One could never except when the enemy would amass a surprise strike… a painful experience from a few hundreds years ago ensured that the Shimada family would never be caught by surprise again.

"Wai you follow?!"

Jesse raised his hands again, in a defensive manner as he felt the metal against his throat.

"Easy Darlin', I'm jus' lookin' fer some good company."

Hanzo stared at the other man… His accent was so thick, he could barely decode it.

The American pressed a finger against the dagger to lower it, letting out an awkward chuckle at the fact his host was threatening him.

"Yer not gonna kill me fer wantin' something interesting to do while my boss talks t' yer boss. Are ye?"

Hanzo pondered the explanation as he navigated the complex accent, all while sliding the blade back into the sheath at the small of his back, hidden under his kimono sash.

"Fatha."

"What?"

"You boss. Me Fatha."

For a long moment McCree was very confused and for some reason his brain went to the gutter. Which was all too common for him, of late; he was only 15 after all… And in the prime of being overloaded by his hormones.

The lack of clear communication was starting to frustrate the heir of the Shimada… he needed to be better. It was a shame on the family and clan that his English was so poor.

Turning, he sat down on his knees at the small table within the pavilion. It was the perfect place for lunch in the summer days and sake in the summer nights.

"Sit."

The barely older man commanded - and not knowing if it was supposed to be a demand or request, Jesse took it as the latter, despite his obviously rebellious nature, and sat down cross legged on the opposite side of the table, raising a brow at Hanzo as he spoke.

"Engrish. Teach me. "


End file.
